The Wizard King
by K. Elisabeth
Summary: Harry Potter cast meets Lion King plot. Very funny, lots of song and dance... you'll have to read it to get it. Book 6 Spoilers, in a way. Looking for humor? This is it.
1. The Stampede

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not The Lion King (property of Disney), and not Harry Potter (property of J.K. Rowling, my hero). But I totally own the twisted idea of blending the two together, and I share that right with the other 4 members of the Fabulous 5!**

**A/N:** Larka, Mir, Trixy, and Pink, this is for you guys. Oh, and see if you can spot the one South Park moment in the fic! Hint: It's a Cartman line. I started the story from when Simba was being shown the Pride Lands by Mufasa. I think you'll figure out who's who... enjoy! I know I had a heck of a fun time writing this, so you aught to have some fun reading it.

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The castle was relatively quiet as Harry traipsed up the many flights of stairs to reach the Astronomy tower. Today Professor Dumbledore had summoned him there early, at sunrise and before most of the castle had yet to wake. Harry didn't know why, but he came without question. Legs aching and nearly out of breath, Harry rounded the last corner and found himself atop the tower, Dumbledore looking out the vast windows with a look of reverie on his face.

"Er, Professor Dumbledore, you asked to see me?" he said, approaching Dumbledore carefully, who simply nodded and beckoned him to his side with the wave of a hand. Harry stood next to him at the window, looking out at the Hogwarts grounds. A fine mist blanketed most of the grass, looming lightly over the placid lake and stretching far off into the distance.

"Harry, I wanted you to come here so I could tell you something. One day, when you defeat Voldemort, everything the light touches will be yours." He said this simply, looking down at Harry's face for his reaction. His eyes widened, and he looked up at the headmaster questioningly.

"All mine? But, why? Why do I…"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth Harry, just accept that you will be the ruler of this land once Voldemort is defeated."

"So I'll become headmaster?"

"Don't ask questions, Harry. Everything the light touches."

"What about that dark spot?" Harry asked, pointing to a place beyond the forest, where shadows darkened the land and a peculiar stone citadel that seemed shrouded by storm clouds.

"That is beyond our boundaries Sim—er, Harry. You must never go there."

"How come? Are there dark wizards there?"

"You ask too many questions."

With that, Harry silenced himself, surveying the land that would one day be his. He felt pride swell up in him; he'd be the ruler of it all.

"Harry, you may go now."

And he did, strutting like a proud rooster all the way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He sat between Ron and Hermione, who looked up at him with peculiar expressions on their faces. Finally, Ron spoke, thickly through a mouthful of wildebeest… er… eggs.

"Where were you Harry?"

"I was with Dumbledore in the Astronomy tower. Guess what? I'm gonna be king. Er, I mean, Headmaster. Point is, everything is going to be mine one day." Suddenly, there was a loud scoffing sound behind Harry. He whipped around to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him on either side. He wore his typical sneer, and glared at Harry.

"You? Headmaster? I don't think so."

"Oh yeah, Malfoy? Why not?"

"Because," he sneered, "The school board has to approve the new Headmaster. And with my father's influences, you'll never get on."

"Oh yeah? We'll see about that. And when I _am_ Headmaster, that'll be the first thing to go."

"Not so long as my father's around," Malfoy growled, taking a step towards Harry menacingly.

"Well, in that case, he'll be fired."

"Haha, nice try Potter, but only the head of the school board can do that."

"Well," Ron piped in, finally having swallowed down his pudding, "He's _almost_ the head of the school board, if he's the Headmaster."

"Yeah!" Harry said, standing up and going toe-to-toe with Malfoy. He grinned. "So that means _you_ need to _respect mah authoritay!_" Malfoy glared at Harry, but a look flickered across his face to suggest he was slightly intimidated by Harry's newfound audacity. But he quickly regained his Malfoy composure and just sneered, eyes narrowed at Harry.

"You'll be a pretty pathetic Headmaster, Potter. Worst Hogwarts has ever seen." Crabbe and Goyle guffawed behind him, until he held up a hand to shut them up. Harry just shook his head, laughing haughtily.

"Not the way I see it."

Suddenly, Harry sprung up onto the Gryffindor house table, kicking plates and goblets aside. Gryffindor students scooted away from the table, staring curiously, albeit apprehensively, at Harry.

"What the hell is he doing?" Ron muttered, but Hermione just shook her head, awestruck, as Harry began to sing.

"_I'm gonna be the Headmaster,_

_So Slytherins beware!"_

Malfoy suddenly cut in, shoving a timid-looking 1st year out of his chair and standing on it, becoming more level with Harry.

"_Well I've never seen a Headmaster,_

_With such untidy hair!"_

Harry brushed off the comment, continuing.

"_I'm gonna be a headmaster,_

_As great as Dumbledore!_

_I'm brushin' up on looking down,_

_Like Gryffindor, I ROAR!"_

Professor McGonagall walked by on her way out of breakfast, rolling her eyes and singing her bit.

"_This child is getting wildly out of wing..."_

(Harry picks up)

"_Oh I just can't wait to be king! cough Er, headmaster!"_

Filch, summoned to the Great Hall by Mrs. Norris at the commencement of the singing, swaggered in, leering at the Gryffindor table. He approached the table where Harry was dancing and singing, and pounded his fist on it, causing Harry to pause for a moment.

"You've got a long way before you ever become Headmaster, if you _think_…" But Harry cut him off.

"_Nobody sayin' do this!"_

Ron leaped up in his seat, and began to sing.

"_Nobody sayin' be there!"_

Hermione, as if suddenly bitten by the music bug, stood up and leaped on the table, kicking off her shoes and dancing sock-footed on the surface.

"_Nobody sayin' stop that!"_ she chimed, and Harry and Ron looked astounded at her musical outburst.

"_Nobody sayin' see here!"_ The Trio sang, much to Filch's dismay.

"Now see here!" he shouted, but it was to no avail. While Ron and Hermione fell silent, Harry continued to strut and sing.

"_Free to run around all day!_

_Free to do it all my way!"_

Harry ran down the table and slid on his knees to the end of it, arms spread and grin wide.

"_Oh I just can't wait to be headmaster!_

_Oh I just can't wait to be headmaster!"_

The Gryffindor table chimed in, like a huge chorus.

"_Let every student go for broke and sing!_

_Let's hear it in the heard and on the wing!_

_It's gonna be Professor Potter's finest fling!_

_(Harry wails "Ooooh yeah!")_

_Oh he just can't wait to be headmaster!_

_Oh he just can't wait to be headmaster!  
Oh he just can't waaaaaait… to be headmaster!"_

Harry quieted, and the majority of the Great Hall burst into raucous applause. The exceptions being the Slytherin table, the Staff table (minus Hagrid, of course, who leaped up and clapped louder than anyone else), and Filch. Harry was beaming at his audience, when he heard the clicking of heavy, angry footsteps behind him. Turning quickly, he saw the oily head and hooked nose of Snape striding towards him angrily.

"Come with me, Potter," he muttered, grabbing Harry forcefully by the upper arm and leading him from the Great Hall. A few people hissed and booed. Snape turned and marched him through the Entrance Hall and onto the grounds.

"Potter, Potter, Potter… always seeking attention, aren't we?" Harry glared into Snape's ugly face defiantly, and Snape almost… chuckled?

"Harry… Harry. One day you'll learn… but that's beside the point. I've got a little surprise for you. You, and Dumbledore."

Harry was suddenly mesmerized. "A surprise? For us? What's the catch?" he asked suddenly, mistrust growing all over again.

"It's not from me, Potter. I have a distaste for… surprises. But it's from a good friend. Er, Hagrid. But you have to wait here to get it. Dumbledore will arrive shortly, and Hagrid will bring you your… surprise." Snape said this all dryly, although with a slight glimmer in his eyes.

"Professor Snape, will I _like_ this surprise?" Harry asked.

"Oh Sim—er, Harry, it's to _die_ for." And with that Snape left Harry standing alone and utterly bewildered in the grassy opening. He stood for a while, just contemplating. Looking up at the Astronomy tower, he thought about a few nights ago, when he and Dumbledore had returned from the Penseive after watching yet another memory concerning Voldemort's past. They watched the stars, and he told Harry that when great Wizards die, they go up into the heavens and watch over us from those stars.

Bored, Harry pulled out his wand and practiced his water spell.

"_Aguamenti!_" he shouted, but nothing happened. He shook his wand a bit, and tried again. "_Aguamenti!"_ Still no effect. The third time he bellowed the incantation. "_AGUAMENTI!"_ With that, a stream of water issued from the tip of his wand. Satisfied, he almost didn't notice the trembling of the earth beneath him, nor the thunderous roar of hoofbeats growing closer and closer. Finally he did, and headed his way from the Forbidden Forest, a stampede of… Centaurs? Centaurs. Great.

"Look, Headmaster, the Centaurs are stampeding," McGonagall said off-handedly as she looked out the window of the Astronomy tower. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, clearly curious as to why they were stampeding. If he'd looked a bit closer, he would've seen a group of Slytherin students chasing them with sparks issuing from their wants, jeering and shouting. Suddenly Snape came running up the Astronomy tower stairs, looking horrified.

"Headmaster! The Centaurs, they're stampeding, Harry's down there!"

"Harry!"

The three of them ran from the Astronomy tower, McGonagall heading off to secure the students in the castle so that nobody else might run out into the path of the Centaurs, Dumbledore and Snape running towards the grounds. Dumbledore scanned the grounds wildly, attempting to stay out of the Centaurs' way while searching for Harry. He found him hanging weakly from a tree branch, centaurs knocking into the tree and shaking him every few seconds.

"Dumbledore!" Harry shouted, spotting the headmaster. Dumbledore darted through the galloping Centaurs, getting within spell-firing range of Harry, and muttering an incantation to lift him in the air and move him out of harm's way. But as he did so, a Centaur plowed straight into him, knocking him aside and dropping Harry into the fray. Dumbledore quickly regained his strength, and scrambled towards Harry, lifting his limp form over his shoulders and jogging towards the astronomy tower, the entire Hogwarts grounds covered in a mass of stampeding Centaurs.

So near to the tower… Dumbledore tripped. He fell and Harry went flying, his air-trip ending when he slammed into the wall of the astronomy tower. He flattened himself against it, Centaurs running straight past him but not touching him. He watched, horror-struck, as Dumbledore dragged himself towards a tree, standing like a beacon of hope in the center of the stampede. And in the tree… Snape. How'd he get there?

Dumbledore clambered up the trunk of the tree, reaching for branches to lift his weak, trampled body out of harm's way. He climbed higher and higher, finally reaching where Snape was, safely in a lofty position away from the Centaurs. He sat and twirled his wand, watching Dumbledore with a look of utter disdain. Dumbledore stretched out his hand, and Snape reached down, gripping his wrists with a less-than-brotherly tightness. Dumbledore thought his wrist bones might break under Snape's vice-grip.

"Long live the headmaster," Snape whispered into Dumbledore's face, tossing him backwards out of the tree. Harry watched, unable to see the skirmish between Snape and Dumbledore due to the tree's foliage hiding them from view. He just saw Dumbledore fall from the tree, landing on the ground with a sickening thud. Six or seven Centaurs ran right over him like was nothing more than a bump in the road. Finally the Centaurs cleared, leaving Dumbledore's limp body lying on the grass.

"NOOOO!" Harry shouted, running towards his body.

"Dumbledore? DUMBLEDORE?" he shouted, landing on his knees next to the motionless man. He dared look at the old, lined face of the once-was powerful wizard. There was no life in the blank, glassy eyes. No smile touching the thin lips. No expression whatsoever. Just cold death.

Snape leaped gently from the tree, striding across the grounds to where Harry sat, shaking Dumbledore's lifeless body.

"C'mon Dumbledore, wake up. We've got to go back to the castle. To the hospital wing. C'mon Dumbledore, wake up. Professor, please, wake up…" Harry's tone became more and more helpless with each passing second, as he continued to shake the dead headmaster's body. "Somebody!" he shouted, unaware of Snape's presence. "Anybody… please, help…" He felt tears sting his eyes, and brushed at them bitterly. He then was aware of Snape's presence, standing over Dumbledore's dead body and Harry's crouching one.

"Harry… _what have you done?"_ Snape asked, his voice cold and quiet.

"Nothing! There were Centaurs… he tried to save me… I didn't mean for this to happen!" Harry looked around wildly, as if trying to find a Centaur still sticking around as proof.

"Of course you didn't. Nobody ever means for these things to happen, Potter," Snape sneered, bending down slightly to examine Dumbledore's cold, pale face. "But the headmaster _is_ dead. And if it weren't for you, he'd still be alive." His gaze fell on Harry, emotionless. Harry felt guilt and horror rush through him; he shook his head fiercely, trying not to believe it. "Oh, what will your _classmates_ think?"

"Wh-what am I going to do?" Harry asked quietly, for a moment forgetting his resentment of Snape, his pure hatred and loathing. Grief was currently more overwhelming.

"Run away, Potter. Run away… and never return."

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**A/N:** -sniffles- I always cry at that part in the movie! Anyway, Part 2 (the 2nd half of the story) is coming shortly, so stay tuned! Reviews are loved and often encourage a writer to put up more chapters/parts of the story quicker! -hint hint-


	2. Hakuna Matata

**A/N:** I'm glad y'all enjoyed the first part, it was so much fun to write! Hopefully you enjoy this second part (of 3 parts, possibly 4) of the story. Reviews are greatly appreciated! And once again, I own nothing. Not the Lion King, not Harry Potter. As a matter of fact, I think all of the dialogue in this story belongs to Disney. Haha.

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The Great Hall was draped in black, curtains and tapestries and table runners. The staff, all the students, all in black. Heads were bowed, tears fell, and Severus Snape stood where Dumbledore once stood, addressing the room.

"Dumbledore's death was a great tragedy, but to lose Simb—er, Harry, who had just begun to live…" Snape bowed his head in mock sorrow, slipping himself a twisted grin before continuing. "So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the position of Headmaster. Yet, out of the ashes of this tragedy, we will rise to greet the dawning of a new era, in which purebloods will reign!" There was a gasp, as a line of Slytherins (and a few of other houses, but barely) filed in behind the staff table, all wearing magnificent green robes, sneering out at the other students.

"I can't believe he's gone…" Ginny sniffled, arms wrapped around Hermione, the two girls sobbing on each others' shoulders. Ron patted their backs awkwardly, fighting his own tears. His best friend, gone. Dead.

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Hagrid shook his head, tears falling into his black beard. He lumbered around to the back wall of his house, where a stick figure of a boy with black hair had been drawn with chalk many years ago. He wiped his hand across it, smearing the drawing. No more.

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He finally collapsed. He fell to the ground, small cloud of dirt rising as he hit the packed earth. His glasses slightly askew, exhausted from his endless travel since his banishment, Harry slipped into unconsciousness. Overhead, birds, vultures, began to swarm, circling lower and lower over him, ready to pick at the so-said dead body. That was, until two figures on brooms came flying after them.

"YEEEEAHH!" one red-headed figure shouted, knocking two vultures out of the sky as he flew into them. "Get out! Out of here! Go on! YEEEEHA!"

The two red-headed males landed softly on the ground, laughing raucously. Two tall, lanky red-heads with freckles, bearing striking resemblance to one another… Fred and George Weasley.

"Oh man, I love flying after buzzards!" Fred said, wiping a tear of joy and laughter from his eyes. George nodded his agreement, then noticed Harry's chest rising and falling softly.

"Uh oh, Fred, I think he's still alive…"

"Eugh. Okay, let's see what we have here," Fred said, walking over to Harry's body and removing his arm from in front of his face. "Jeez, it's Harry! Well, let's take him back to the shop then, get him fixed up." With that, they slung Harry over George's shoulders and flew back to their store in Diagon Alley.

"You okay, Harry?" Fred asked, when Harry finally came-to. He was lying on the couch in the sitting room of the Twins' flat above their shop in Diagon Alley. He nodded, groaning and up-righting himself.

"I guess so," Harry replied, memories of the day before flooding his memory.

"You nearly died out there," George said solemnly.

"Yeah, I saved you."

George snorted indignantly at Fred, who sighed loudly. "Okay, George helped. A little."

"Well, thanks for your help guys…" Harry said, walking towards the door of the flat.

"Hey, where are you going?" Fred asked, watching him up and begin to leave.

"Nowhere," Harry said dully.

"Gee, he looks blue," said Fred.

"I'd say his eyes are more of a green color…" George said, and Fred smacked him in the back of the head.

"No, I mean he looks depressed."

George walked up to Harry, standing in front of the door so he couldn't leave. "Harry, what's eatin' you?"

"Nothing George, he's on the top of the food chain!" Fred laughed, slapping his knees and abruptly stopping his peals of laughter at the sight of George and Harry's solemn faces. "Er, I guess it works better with lions… anyway, what did you do, Harry? Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Harry muttered.

"Good," said Fred, "Because we don't wanna hear about it!"

"Fred," George said reproachfully, sounding almost like Hermione speaking to Ron. He lead Harry towards the couch and sat him down again. "Is there anything we can do, Harry?"

"Not unless you can change the past."

"You know, Harry, in times like these, my brother Fred here says 'You've got to put your behind in your past'!"

"No, no, no!" Fred glared at George with disdain, pushing him gently onto the couch next to Harry. "It's, 'You gotta put your past behind you'. Bad things happen, and there's nothing you can do about 'em, right?"

"Right," Harry said dully.

"Wrong! When the school turns its back on you, you turn your back on the school!"

Harry stared up at Fred. "Well, that's not what Dumbledore taught us…"

"Well, Harry, maybe you need a new lesson! Repeat after me: Hakuna Matata."

"Haku-what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Ha-ku-na Ma-ta-ta. It means no worries!"

"_Hakuna matata…"_ Fred began, clearing his throat and grinning at Harry before continuing. "_What a wonderful phrase!"_

"_Hakuna Matata,"_ said George, joining in. _"Ain't no passing craze!"_

"_It means no worries,_

_For the rest of your days…"_

"_It's our problem-free philosophy!"_ Fred and George threw their arms around each other's shoulders, singing, _"Hakuna Matata!"_

"Hakuna Matata?" Harry asked, perking up but still confused.

"It's our motto," George said proudly.

"What's a motto?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Fred said, chuckling, "What's a motto with you?" After another peal of laughter from Fred, he silenced himself, and then continued speaking.

"You know, Harry," Fred said, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and looking out, as if watching something interesting out the window, "These two words will solve all your problems!" And with that Fred leaped up next to George, and they began a can-can sort of dance, while continuing their song together.

"_Hakuna Matata!  
What a wonderful phrase!_

_Hakuna Matata!_

_Ain't no passin' craze…"_

Feeling more enthusiastic, Harry jumped up and began to sing.

"_It means no worries,  
For the rest of your daaaaays!"_

"Sing it, Harry!" Fred shouted, pulling him into their can-can line as the three of them finished out the song.

"_It's our problem-free_

_Philosophy_

_Hakuna Matata!"_

The three of them danced and sang into the night, downing innumerable butterbeers and partying the night away, until the early hours of the day. And they did this almost nightly, with Harry helping the twins in their shop every day, then the three of them partying in the night. For maybe three or four months this went on, and Harry began to purge his mind of thoughts of Dumbledore and Hogwarts and his old life. He just lived for the moment, put his past behind him. No worries. Hakuna Matata.

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**A/N:** Yes, Hagrid is Rafiki, and the twins are Timon and Pumbaa. Glad you're so clever as to figure that out :-) I'm already writing the 3rd part, so by the time you read this it might already be up. Again, R&R please!


	3. Snape's Castle

**A/N:** This one is a bit shorter than I'd hoped; I wanted to fit in the star-gazing bit here too, but I decided that where I ended was a nice spot. Enjoy! Again... I own nothing.

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The nights and days passed, an endless party. Life was Hakuna Matata. Harry had no worries of Voldemort, or Snape, and simply repressed the memories of the stampede into the back of his mind where they festered, unnoticed. He, Fred and George ate, drank, and were merry, working in the shop days and partying nights.

Meanwhile…

Overhead, steel-gray clouds swirled ominously, threatening storm. The grounds were overgrown with tangles of weeds and vines, Hagrid having given up the job of groundskeeper upon Dumbledore's death. Within the school, windows were locked shut, the entirety of the place lit by candle stubs day in and day out, casting a very dark, gloomy feel over the school. If one were to glimpse at the counters for the four houses in the Great Hall, they would see the Slytherin counter full to bursting, the Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw hourglasses totally empty.

In this school, purebloods and those of noble decent reigned. Mostly Slytherin, these students wore silver badges, embellished with a serpent, and a 'P' (for Pureblood). They wore deep green robes around the school and were often caught hexing other students, especially muggleborns, in the halls. Hermione herself had already been to the hospital wing twice, once for painful boils that had erupted all over her body as a result of a hex by a particularly short Slytherin girl, and the other time for a curse that worked sort of like Tourette's Syndrome, causing her to swear profanely every time she opened her mouth.

Snape sat behind what had once been Dumbledore's desk, twirling his wand in his fingers. He had become an absolute tyrant in the space of 4 months since Dumbledore's death, his little army of Slytherin purebloods working to patrol the corridors and hex anyone they felt fit. Currently Minerva McGonagall stood before Headmaster Snape, eyes fixed on him with a cold fury, face white and lips pressed together to make a thin, angry line.

"You want me to _what?"_ she asked incredulously, anger rising in her voice.

"Sing, Minerva. Sing me a song." He looked at her, smirking.

"I most certainly will not, Severus!"

"That's headmaster to you, Minerva. And you will. Or I'll be unhappy. And… nobody comes out of it well when I'm unhappy," he said dangerously, wand emitting sparks. McGonagall eyed the wand, then wearily sat down and shut her eyes briefly, as if thinking painfully whether or not she could just jump out of the window and end it now. But she stayed in her seat, then parted her lips and began to sing.

"_Nobody knows the troubles I've seen_

_Nobody knows my sorrow…"_

Snape rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, turning to face McGonagall with a look of pitying distaste on his face.

"Oh Minerva, do lighten up. Sing something with a little, eh, bounce to it."

McGonagall's lips twisted slightly, into almost a grin, and she sang.

"_It's a small world after all..."_

Immediately, Snape jumped in his seat, eyes screwed shut and face contorted in what looked like sheer pain. As if someone had performed the Crucatius curse on him.

"NO! No… anything but that dreadful song muggle children sing…"

Minerva McGonagall grinned wryly, obviously glad to have caused Snape some sort of discomfort. She thought for a moment, waiting for a tune to come to her, then lifted up a finger as if she were conducting a band and began to sing.

"_I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts,_

_Diddily dee-dee_

_Here they are a-standing in a row…"_

Clearly enjoying himself, Snape joined in.

"_Big ones, small ones,_

_Some as big as your head!_

_Give 'em a twist…"_

Snape sang to himself, and McGonagall rolled her eyes.

"I would've never had to do this for Dumbledore…" she muttered, a bit too loudly. Snape jumped in his seat, turning to McGonagall and giving her a seething look of pure venom.

"What did you say?" he growled, striding across the room and shoving his oily, beaky nose into McGonagall's face. She looks as if she was holding her breath because of his rank stench, and shook her head.

"Nothing! Nothing…"

"You know the rules. Never, _ever_ mention that name in my presence. I am the HEADMASTER!"

"Yes, _sir_," McGonagall spat, scooting the chair back so as not to be in such close proximity with the man. "You _are_ the headmaster. I was just illustrating the differences in your er, managerial approaches. _Sir."_

With a bang, the door to the office burst open, a gaggle of discontented Slytherins in deep green robes standing in the doorway. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle strode into the room, shutting the door behind them.

"Professor Snape, we've got a problem," Malfoy said, and Crabbe and Goyle grunted at his sides, punching their knuckles into their palms. Malfoy glared at them in a 'cool it' sort of way, and they backed up, standing on either side of the door, glaring.

"Professor… Headmaster… the house elves are on _strike_," Malfoy spat, as if the idea completely repulsed him.

"_Strike?_" Snape repeated, ogling at the boy as if he was speaking a foreign language. Malfoy nodded grimly McGonagall looked as if she was repressing laughter.

"Strike. And there's no food. They refuse to cook, refuse to clean. Everything's a mess, we're all hungry, and you've got to do something about it," Malfoy said, the latter bit of his statement sounding like an order more than a request.

"Oh I have, have I? It's not _my _job to make and serve the food, it's the house elves' job."

"But they won't do it!"

"And I thought things were bad when Dumbledore was headmaster…" Crabbe muttered to Goyle, who nodded solemnly. Snape was livid.

"_WHAT DID YOU SAY?"_ he bellowed, standing quickly and knocking his chair to the ground.

"Er… nothing," Crabbe muttered, falling silent.

"Good. Now get out of my sight," Snape hissed, righting his chair and resuming his seat. The boys began walking away, and as they passed through the door Malfoy paused and turned back to Snape.

"But… we're still hungry."

"_OUT!"_ Snape roared, and the three boys jumped and high-tailed it out of the office and down the spiral staircase.

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**A/N:** The more reviews, the merrier I am, and the merrier I am, the more often I update! -snicker-


	4. Feel the Love

**N/A:** Oh wow. I'm so, so sorry this took so long. Months, I know. The real world has been insane, I haven't had the time or, when time, the desire to complete another installment of the story. Then I fell into a month-long writer's block where absolutely nothing in any form came to me. But we're good now! Thanks to Cassandra for inspiring me to get my butt in gear and start writing this again, and to the Fab 5, who are, as I found out, beyond explaining. I own NOTHING, in case you didn't figure that out the first time. Almost none of the dialogue, the characters, the situations... I just mess with it for laughs. :-)

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Sprawled out on the roof of their flat, beneath a clear, starry sky, Fred, George and Harry laid on their backs. After a particularly loud belch from Mr. Potter himself, the twins cheered.

"Nice one, Harry!"

"Thanks, Fred. Man, I'm stuffed."

"I ate like a pig," George said, stretching.

"George, you are a pig. Oh wait, no you're not. Sorry," Harry said, chuckling to himself.

"Fred?"

"Yeah, George?"

"Do you ever wonder what those sparkly things up there are?"

"George, are you a freaking moron? They're stars."

"Oh. Well, I thought maybe they could be something else. Like, maybe fairies lived up there."

"You had too much firewhisky, George," Fred muttered, turning to Harry and waggling his eyebrows. "How about you, Harry? Got any other crazy ideas to add to Fred's collection of the explanation behind stars?"

"Well…" Harry contemplated for a moment, then continued. "Someone once told me that the great Wizards of the past went up their when they died, to guide us."

Fred and George both turned on their sides to stare at Harry, ogling for a second, before they burst out laughing.

"Now THAT is a guy who's had a little too much firewhisky, eh?" Fred said, hooting with laughter. Harry chuckled half-heartedly, the other half of him remembering Dumbledore. Painful memories he hadn't thought of in months came back to him, and he suddenly got up and walked to the far side of the roof. He hung his legs over the edge and stared out into the sky, and vaguely heard Fred whisper to George 20 feet away 'Was it something I said?'

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Dust. It lays everywhere, inside and out. A thick layer of grime and dust laid on the roof tiles where Harry flopped down on the edge, kicking it away in a cloud of soot. Away it flew, taken into the night. Somehow it managed to travel past a certain huge, hairy half-Giant who was perched atop his hut, whittling a flute from a piece of wood. He lifted his great shaggy head, catching a whiff of the scent that blew past him. His eyes widened, his entire attitude perkier.

"He's… he's alive?" He muttered, eyes shining. "Blimey, he's alive!" Hagrid leaped from the roof to the ground with a mighty thud, ripping back weeds and vines that had grown over the stick figure of Harry in the past 4 months without his gardening services. He picked up a piece of chalk, and began to retrace the stick figure. "It is time!"

-----------

The following day, the three bachelors spent the day weeding the garden behind their flat. Out of sheer boredom, George began the back-beat for In the Jungle.

"Ohi'mbube, ohi'mbube, ohi'mbube, ohi'mbube…"

"_In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…" _Fred sang, as George continued with the back-beat. _"Oooh in the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight…"_ Fred didn't notice that he was signing a capella, for George had just noticed a pesky garden gnome, and had run off to catch it. Around the corner of the flat he went, wielding his trowel like a weapon of sorts. He must've looked rather ridiculous; huge flowery sunhat, rims flopping over into his sweaty face, brandishing his trowel like a sword with which he could vanquish all garden gnomes.

"George? George? I can't hear you man! AWEEEEEEEEEEE-eeeee-EEEEE-eeee-EEE-Pum-bum-buhwaaay!"

Suddenly, as Fred stalked the in-sight gnome, he heard a twig snap beneath someone's foot. Assuming it was George, he didn't pay it any mind. But when he heard it again he looked up, face red and streaked with mud and sweat, floppy hat obscuring his vision. Standing before him, a tall figure, clad in a black cloak.

"DEATH EATER!" he screamed, turning and running like there was no tomorrow. He nearly collided with George as he ran into the apartment, bellowing 'DEATH EATER!' at the top of his voice. The cloaked figure ran after him, making hissing noises. Harry ran into the yard, wand pointed. He saw the cloaked figure approach, and he was ready.

"_Expelliarmus!_" he shouted, but the figure was one step ahead of him.

"_Expelliarmus!" _she cried, his wand flying out of his hand and landing in the grass with a thud. But rather than panic, as the twins were behind him, he squinted curiously into the face of the hood.

"Ginny?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. The figure yanked back the hood, revealing long, vivid red hair and deep brown eyes, face sprinkled with freckles.

"Harry?" she asked, bewildered. As if she couldn't believe what she was actually seeing.

"GINNY!" he shouted, running up to her and sweeping her into a hug that took her off her feet. She laughed, eyes bright, and cried out his name.

"Harry! HARRY! Oh my God, Harry! How did you…? It's great to see you!" she said, baffled. He set her down and she beamed at him. "I can't believe you've been here all this time! Ron and Hermione, they've been so… oh, what'll they think?"

"Er, they don't have to know," Harry said, looking away. "Nobody has to know."

"Of course they do Harry, everyone thinks you're dead!" Ginny said, eyes almost brimming with tears. Happy or sad, Harry couldn't tell.

"They think I'm _what?_"

"Dead. Snape told us about the stampede…"

"Oh, he did?" he asked nervously, rubbing the toe of his shoe into the ground. "Er, what else did he tell you?"

"What else matters? You're alive… and that means…" her eyes grew wide, and she grinned like the Cheshire cat. "That means you're the headmaster!"

"Headmaster? Wow, Ginny, you've got the wrong guy. Harry's no headmaster!" Fred said, shaking his head.

"Harry…" said George in awe, looking at Harry as if he'd never seen him before. "You're the headmaster? Professor Potter…" he said, grinning.

"No, I'm not the headmaster!"

"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, giving him an inquiring look.

"Well, maybe I was going to be. But that was a long time ago."

"So, you're the headmaster, and you never told us?" Fred asked, looking scandalized.

"Look, I'm still the same guy!"

"Yeah, but with power!" Fred shook a fist in the air as if to physically portray Harry's newfound power. George was still staring, awe-struck. Ginny shook her head, still giving Harry the _look_, and spoke to her brothers.

"Could you guys excuse Harry and I for a second?"

"Hey, little sister, whatever you have to say, you can say in front of us! Right Harry?" Fred said, grinning and cuffing Harry on the shoulder. Harry slunk away from his reach.

"Er… maybe you guys should go…" he said, smiling apologetically. Fred and George exchanged dark looks, then walked off, grumbling darkly. Harry and Ginny sat and began talking in whispers, Harry glancing at Fred and George as they trudged towards the back door, finally going inside and slamming it shut.

"Fred and George… you learn to love 'em," Harry said brightly, then his face fell at the look of sadness on Ginny's features. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"It's like you're back from the dead," she whispered, looking up with round, brimming brown eyes. "You don't know how much this'll mean to everyone… what it means to me."

"Hey… it's okay…" he said, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her close to him.

"I've really missed you," she said, hugging him and smiling.

"I missed you too," he said, almost startled by Ginny's affection.

"You think you know a guy…" Fred muttered, leaning against the windowsill. George stood next to him, watching Harry and Ginny talk outside. "I'm telling you George, this stinks!"

"Oh, sorry…" George said, flushing.

"Not you, them! Him. Her. Alone," he said, rolling his eyes and sneering at their turned backs.

"What's wrong with that?"

"Ugh! _I can see what's happening…_" Fred began, singing.

"What?" George asked, confused.

"And _they don't have a clue!_"

"Who?"

"_They'll fall in love and here's the bottom line… our trio's down to two._"

"Oh."

"_Ze sweet caress of twilight, there's magic everywhere! And with all this romantic atmosphere… DISASTER'S IN THE AIR!_"

-----------

Harry and Ginny continued talking in the garden, joking and laughing over old times, as if they hadn't skipped a beat. Harry hadn't really been gone for the past four months, Ginny hadn't come in search of him because the castle was going down in flames under the rule of Snape, none of it was real. They were back together and it was just like old times, before any of this had happened. Just like before.

They walked along the garden path, hand in hand, and it was only after a direct gaze from Ginny that Harry pulled away and stepped off to the side, shoving his hands in his pockets, face surly and embedded in thought.

"_So many things to tell her,  
And how to make her see  
The truth about my past?  
Impossible! She'd turn away from me…_"

Ginny gave the back of Harry's head a concerned look.

"_He's holding back, he's hiding  
But what, I can't decide  
Why won't he be the headmaster I know he is?_

_The headmaster I see inside…_"

Harry shook out of his funk and turned back around, facing Ginny. He had a wicked grin on his face. Behind her, little did she know, was a knee-deep pond, usually for simple decoration purposes. Harry took a step forward, and startled, Ginny took a step back in reaction, stepping straight into the water. She stumbled back, knee-deep in scummy pond water, and shrieked.

"Oh, you!" she shouted, flustered but grinning despite. She dipped her hand into the water and sent a wave of it flying at Harry, soaking the front of his shirt.

Fred and George watched the two play from the window. Fred sighed.

"_And if he falls in love tonight, it can be assumed…_"

George, a glum look plastered on his face, rested his chin on the windowsill.

"_His care-free days with us are history…_"

Together, they mournfully sang.

"_In short, our pal is doooooooomed…_" On that note, the two promptly burst into loud, dramatic wails, and Fred got up and wandered into the kitchen, most likely searching for another Firewhisky.

-------------

**N/A:** Working on the next installment now, I promise you won't have to wait months to get it this time! R&R is so appreciated, so if the story makes you happy, leave me a review and make me happy:-)


	5. Don't Tell Me

**Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING. I only dream of owning it.**

**N/A:** I told you I'd be quick on this one! Lots of arguing, enjoy :-)

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Harry and Ginny continued walking, eventually coming up to a small stone bench around the side of the garden. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the sun scoot towards the other side of the sky, garden gnomes cackling in the nearby bushes.

"Isn't it great here?" Harry finally said after a few minutes of silent observation, looking to Ginny with a grin. Ginny gave a tight-lipped, forced smile, eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, it's nice… but I don't understand something, Harry. If you've been alive all these months, just hiding out here… why didn't you come back to Hogwarts?"

"I dunno," he replied off-handedly, letting the answer hang in the air for a moment before continuing, eyes fixated on a garden gnome trying to pick a fight with the neighbor's cat, who looked about as friendly as a Skrewt. "I guess I just needed some time to myself, y'know? I needed to breathe, to get away from Hogwarts and Snape and all that pureblood craziness… I just needed some space. And I got it, and it's great! We work during the day, party all night, no worries."

"Oh. It's just… we've really needed you, back at Hogwarts," Ginny said softly, casting her gaze off to the side, eyes wet.

"Nobody there needs me," Harry said gruffly, furrowing his brows, still watching Gnome vs. Cat, Round 1. Cat looked like it was winning.

"Yes they do! We do! You're the headmaster, Harry!"

"No, I'm not," Harry said impatiently, turning to face her. "We went over this already Ginny, Snape is the new headmaster, not me."

"Harry, he let the hyenas – er, the Purebloods – take over the castle!"

"What?" Harry snapped, mouth slightly agape in shock. The gnome got a good bite on the cat, Round 2 to the gnome.

"Harry, everything is destroyed. The house elves are on strike, Snape's purebloods are running the castle and hexing everyone who gets in their way, they've ransacked most of the classrooms and common rooms. There's no food, no water…"

"Surely there's food and water?"

"Well okay, but it's not prepared food. Everything is chaos, Harry, and if you don't do something soon it'll turn into pure anarchy. Hogwarts as a school is at stake here!" Ginny nearly shouted the last bit, exasperated, staring Harry down. Harry's face was dark and perturbed, but he shook his head, biting on his bottom lip.

"I can't go back," he said quietly, continuing to shake his head.

"Why not!" Ginny asked loudly, looking both confused and borderline disgusted with Harry's response to the news about the castle.

"You wouldn't understand," Harry said darkly, turning his gaze forcedly back to the cat and the gnome. Unfortunately, they were gone, so Harry stared blankly at the bush instead, trying to block Ginny out.

"What wouldn't I understand, Harry? _What_ wouldn't I understand?"

"No, it doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head and shutting his eyes. "Hakuna Matata."

"What?" Ginny asked confusedly.

"Hakuna Matata. It's something your brothers taught me while I was out here living with them. Look Ginny," he said, taking her hand in his and staring into her eyes, as if trying to make his point very clear and well-heard. "Sometimes bad things happen…"

"_Harry!_" Ginny pulled her hand back, standing up, completely fed-up with the way he was acting. He was so changed.

"Sometimes bad things happen," he reiterated, louder and more forcefully, rising to his feet. "And there's nothing you can do about it. So why worry?" Harry turned on his heel and began walking away from Ginny, but she caught up to him, cutting him off.

"Because it's your responsibility!" she spat, glaring at him.

"Well what about you? You left!" Harry asked accusatorily.

"I left to find help! And I found you. Don't you understand? You're our only hope!"

"Sorry," Harry said blankly, turning the other way and walking away from her.

"What's happened to you?" Ginny bellowed to Harry's retreating back. "You're not the Simba— er, Harry – I remember!"

"You're right, I'm not!" he bellowed back, equally loudly, growing red in the face. His scar pulsated painfully, but he ignored it. "Now are you satisfied?"

"No, just disappointed," Ginny growled, glaring.

"You know, you're starting to sound a lot like Dumbledore…" Harry said quietly, picking up the pace and walking towards the flat.

"Good, at least one of us does!" Ginny shouted, fists balled, tears running down her face. Harry stopped dead in his tracks, turning to Ginny with a look on his face that was stunned, insulted and hurt.

"Listen, you think you can just show up and tell me how to live my life?" Harry roared, loudly enough to send a garden gnome running for shelter. From the windows, Fred and George stared wide-eyed. "You don't even know what I've been through!"

"I would if you'd just tell me!" Ginny shouted in an almost pleading tone.

"FORGET IT!" Harry shouted, nearly ripping the door off the hinges as he stepped inside the flat.

"FINE!" Ginny shouted back, picking up her cloak from where it was lain across the back of the bench, leaving as the door slammed in the frame.

---------------

Harry tore out of the house like a hurricane, wandering down the streets, out of Diagon Alley, and off into the countryside until his legs were so sore he couldn't carry himself any farther. He sat at the base of a tree; at this point night had fallen, and the sky was littered with stars. Harry sighed loudly.

"She's wrong, I can't go back. What would it prove anyway? It won't change anything. You can't change the past." Harry looked up to the sky, picking out one particularly bright star and began screaming at it.

"YOU SAID YOU'D ALWAYS BE THERE FOR ME!" he bellowed, using up his remaining energy to project all of his anger out into his words. "But you're not…" he sighed, shutting his eyes hard and bowing his head down. "And it's because of me. It's my fault. It's my fault."

He was suddenly startled by loud, heavy footsteps coming up behind him, heavy enough to shake the earth underfoot. The figure was large and cloaked, none of its featured recognizable. And it was singing.

"_Asante sana, squash banana, we we nugu, mi mi apana…_" the figure chanted, repeating the words over and over again, to the point where it began to greatly annoy Harry. He stood and walked a few yards over to another tree, further away from the cloaked figure, and sat down. The figure followed him, and began chanting again.

"Would you cut that out?" Harry asked irritatedly, glaring over his shoulder.

"Can't cut it out, it'll grow right back!" the voice replied gruffly, chuckling heartily to itself.

"Creepy little… big not-monkey guy," Harry said, confusing even himself with that statement. "Would you stop following me? Who are you, anyway?" Harry asked, suddenly on guard. He doubted a Death Eater would be so… jovial… but after a few too many Firewhiskies, anyone could get too friendly with the enemy. The figure lumbered over to Harry, sitting directly across from him, and laughed.

"Noooo, the question is, who are _you_?"

Harry sighed.

"I thought I knew… but now I'm not so sure."

"Well," the figure began, cracking its massive knuckles. "I know who you are. You are a baboon!"

"I think you're a little confused…" Harry said, raising his eyebrows.

"Bah, I'm not the confused one. You don't even know who you are!"

"Oh, and I suppose you know who I am, right?" Simba… er… Harry… asked sarcastically.

"Of course I do! You're Mufasa's boy!" And with that, the figure got up and trotted off, shaking the ground with each thud of its boots against the earth.

"What? No I'm not! Who's Mufasa? Hey, you, wait up!" Harry shouted bewilderedly, rising to his feet and chasing after the cloaked figure.


	6. Reflection

**A/N:** Okay, so it's been over a YEAR since the last time I updated this thing... over two years since I originally started it. I get it. I'm slow. Sometimes these things take a while. But that's why summer break is so absolutely amazing; you get time for things like this. I'm going to finish it up, today. I'm going to finish it, and after two years, it will be done. Enjoy!

--------------------------

Harry chased the cloaked figure across the clearing, but for every single stride the massive individual made, Harry had to make at least three to keep up. He watched the man duck into the woods, and followed after, unable to keep him in sight but following the sound of his massive body crashing through the underbrush. Finally, nearly breathless, he came upon a clearing, where the figure was sitting on a large stone, whittling what looked like a four-legged blob out of a piece of wood, whistling contentedly.

"You… knew… who's Mufasa?" Harry asked breathlessly, leaning over and grabbing a stitch in his side.

"Not important, Harry Potter," he said, shaking his hidden face and continuing to carve away at the wooden figurine in his hands.

"You know my name?" Harry asked bewilderedly, brows furrowed. That accent sounded familiar.

"O' course, yeh look jus' like your father," he said, chuckling to himself and beginning to whistle again.

"You knew my father?" Harry asked, stepping closer to the massive individual.

"Correction; I _know _your father."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling slightly crestfallen. "Well, sorry to break it to you, but he's dead. He died a long time ago."

"Wrong again!" the figure shouted, jumping up from his seat. "He's alive, and I'll show him to you!" He took off again, thundering out of the clearing and back into the brush.

"Wait, what? Stop! Hold on!" Harry called after him, taking a deep breath and beginning the chase once again. After what was perhaps the most excruciating half-mile sprint of his life—his lungs felt like they were about to explode out of his chest and his scar was throbbing madly at this point—he happed upon a creek, where the hooded figure was crouched on the bank, still whittling away at the wooden hunk. It was slowly taking better shape; it now had four decided legs, and a horse-like body. Harry approached him slowly.

"Look, down there," the mystery man said, holding back a fence of reeds and offering the way. Harry stumbled down the slippery bank, resting on the edge of the creek, and looked down into the water. In it he saw his own reflection; pale cheeks flushed from his run, lightning-bolt scar slashed across his forehead, and his mother's vivid green eyes.

"That's not my father," Harry said, shaking his head and looking up the bank at the whittling giant. "That's just my reflection." The figure shook his head.

"No, look harder."

Harry bent down, looking again into the water. This time he saw his reflection, but after only a few moments the face in the water began to swim, taking a very similar but not entirely same shape. It was a bit older, with the same pale face and untidy black hair, but with stern hazel eyes staring back at Harry.

"He's alive, Harry… he lives in you," the disguised whittler said sagely from overhead. Harry felt a strong breeze pick up, rumpling his hair back, and a bright light began to shine down on the banks of the creek. He looked up, and nearly fell backwards in shock.

A bright light was shining before him, and stepping out of that light was a massive, silver stag. Thick fog rolled out from behind the stag, covering the water's surface and surrounding the pair. The white light was almost painful to look into; Harry squinted against it, holding a hand up and gazing upon the creature. It was large, larger than the average stag, with massive antlers atop its regal head.

"Prongs?" Harry asked, pushing himself backwards on the bank slightly. The stag reared up, striking the water's surface with its hooves and splashing water in Harry's direction.

"Harry," a voice said, not coming from the stag, but perhaps the night air.

"Dad?" he asked, bewildered.

"Harry, you have forgotten me," his father's voice said.

"No!" Harry shouted. "No, how could I?"

"You have forgotten who you are, and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Hogwarts castle."

"Simba?" Harry asked. "That's not my name!"

"I know," his father's voice said. "I was just always partial to the name. Your mother never really did see it my way."

"Oh," Harry said, shrugging. "But dad, I can't go back to the castle… I'm not who I used to be."

"Remember who you are…" James's voice said, as the stag approached Harry, lowering its head. "You are my son, and the one true Ki—er, Headmaster." The stag nudged Harry's hand, which had been resting on his knee, and he reached up and stroked the stag's face.

"Remember who you are, Simba…" the voice said, and the stag began to dissipate before Harry's eyes.

"That's not my name!" he shouted again, jumping to his feet. The stag raised its head, eye level with Harry, as it slowly faded into nothing.

"Sorry… remember, Harry… remember…" The fog cleared, and the voice vanished along with the stag. Harry stood, alone, looking off into the distance.

"Maybe you should try remembering who I am…" Harry muttered bitterly, climbing out of the sunken bank and onto solid ground, where the hooded figure was putting the finishing touches on his carving.

"That was some kind of water spout!" the hooded man said, rising to his feet and looking down at Harry with hidden eyes.

"Yeah, it was somethin' alright…" Harry said, shaking his head.

"You 'ave to come back, Harry," the man said, and Harry looked up.

"But going back to the castle means I'll have to face my past. I've been running from it for so long…" Harry said, trailing off. Suddenly the hooded creature brought up one of his shovel-sized hands, and pimp-slapped Harry across the face, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Ow! What the bloody hell was that for?" he exclaimed, attempting to realign his jaw.

"Don' matter now does it? It's in the past!"

"Yeah, but it still hurt," Harry said, regaining his footing.

"Ah, yeah… the past does hurt, don' it?" the hooded man said, nodding. "But th' way I see it, you can either run from it… or learn from it." He raised his hand again, but this time Harry had the foresight to duck before it made contact with his skull.

"Hah, you got it Harry! So what're you doin' now?"

"Well first," Harry said, "I'm gonna do this!" He jumped up into the air and swung the back of his hand in the direction of the cloaked figure's face, making contact with something very solid and very large, presumably his jaw. It felt like backhanding a piece of granite.

"Ow, wha' was that fer?" But Harry was already sprinting in the opposite direction, from which they came. "Hey, where are you goin'?"

"Back to Hogwarts!" Harry shouted, grinning.

"Take this," the cloaked man said, tossing the wooden figurine through the air. Harry caught and pocketed it, then began running again. Running before had hurt; running now felt liberating. He was running in the right direction this time; not from, but to.

Sunlight filtered in through the window curtains, and Ginny turned onto her other side, burrowing her face into the blanket. It smelled like Harry; so did the pillows. She had slept in the fold-out couch he had been occupying for the past several months, and everything about it reeked of the comforting "boy" smell that was Harry. Ginny stretched her arm out, expecting to wrap it around his sleeping body. Instead, she felt air.

She opened an eye and peered around; no Harry. He hadn't returned in the night as she had expected him to. She bit her lip, sitting up in bed and gazing around the room. No sign of him anywhere. She got up out of bed, wandering down the hall into the twins' bedroom. Each of them slept on a twin mattress on opposite sides of the bedroom, both snoring loudly. She crouched down next to Fred's bed and stared at his sleeping face. He opened one eye, then screamed.

"Bloody hell, Gin, what are you doin'?" he asked, shaking his head and rubbing his face vigorously with his hands. "You'll kill a man scarin' him awake like that." George turned over on his mattress, opening one sleepy eye.

"Wha's goin' on Fred?" he asked.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny interjected. Fred frowned.

"I thought he was with you?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"He never came home last night."

Suddenly their revelation was cut short by a loud pounding on the glass of the bedroom window. The siblings looked up and saw a large, shaggy face peering in at them, grinning.

"Hagrid!" Ginny shouted, leaping off of Fred's bed and crossing the room, opening the window. Hagrid leaned his face in—it was about as much as he could fit through—and gave each of them a nod.

"Mornin' kids," he said, cheery as Christmas day.

"Hagrid, what are you doing here?" George asked, but before Hagrid could answer, Ginny cut in.

"Hagrid, have you seen Harry? He disappeared yesterday after an argument we had and I haven't seen him since. I'm worried."

"No need teh worry about the boy, Ginny," Hagrid said, shaking his head and still grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"What do you mean?" she asked, turning her head slightly. He knew something they didn't, that much was obvious.

"He's fine," Hagrid said. "He's jus' gone back, is all."

"Gone back?" Fred asked.

"You mean…" Ginny started, and Hagrid beamed.

"The Headmaster has returned," Hagrid said. Ginny shrieked, pumping her fist into the air.

"Yes! Oh Hagrid, really, he's gone back? I can't believe it! I knew he would, I knew it. He's gone back."

"Gone back?" Fred asked, looking up to Hagrid's face. But Hagrid wasn't outside of their window anymore. In a flash, he was gone.

"To challenge Scar," Ginny clarified.

"Scar?" Fred asked.

"Who's got a scar? Harry?" George asked.

"No no no… sorry… I meant Snape. He's gone to challenge Snape."

"In what?" Fred asked.

"Wizard's Chess?" George wondered.

"Oh Ron is good at that, he should get him to help," Fred noted.

"You're right. You know I never fancied Snape as much of a chess player…" George said.

"Much more aligned to Exploding Snap, methinks," Fred said.

"Or Exploding Snape," George said, and the pair exploded in laughter.

"Guys!" Ginny hollered, silencing the pair. "Harry has gone back to Hogwarts to challenge Snape for the position of Headmaster."

"Oh," the twins said in unison, nodding.

Meanwhile, Harry ran a lot, and nifty African music played in the background.


	7. The Final Battle

**A/N:** OHMYGODIT'SDONEHALLELUJAHPRAISETHELORD:D

--------------

Harry approached the crest of a hill, his stomach in knots. He knew that once he came to the top of this hill, he would be in full view of the castle; the home that he had left so many months ago, after an accident that killed one of his greatest mentors. Everyone there thought he was dead. At this moment, the way he felt, he sort of wished that he was. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his school robes, and felt something hard in the right-hand pocket; the carving that the hooded figure had given him. He wrapped his hand around it, and removed it from his pocket.

It was a figurine of a stag.

Harry gulped, and crested the hill.

What he saw spread out before him was astonishing. The grounds were wild and unruly; it almost appeared like the Forbidden Forest was trying to eat the rest of the Hogwarts grounds. The castle was overgrown with weeds, and all of the windows were boarded shut, blocking out what weak light fell from the cloud-covered sky above. It looked like a wasteland.

Harry jumped as he heard the sound of leaves crunching beneath footsteps behind him. He turned to see Ginny approaching.

"It's awful, isn't it?" she asked, looking out at the familiar scene. Harry nodded.

"I didn't want to believe you," Harry said, still in awe at the devastation before him.

"What made you come back?" Ginny asked, and Harry shrugged.

"I dunno. I guess someone finally knocked some sense into me. And besides, this is my castle. If I'm not going to fight for it, who will?"

"I will," Ginny said, and Harry smiled.

"It's gonna be dangerous," he said. Ginny shook her head.

"Come on Harry, I grew up with Fred and George. I laugh in the face of danger! Ha ha ha!"

"I see nothing funny about this," a voice said, and Harry and Ginny turned to see Fred and George hot on their heels.

"Fred? George? What are you doing here?" Harry asked, surprised.

"At your service, Headmaster," George said, stooping down on one knee and looking up at Harry with a stupid grin.

"Shut up," Harry said, and the group laughed. The laughter abated quickly, though, and they were almost hypnotized by the situation lain before them.

"So we're gonna fight Snape… for this?" Fred asked, and Harry shoved him lightly.

"Come on, this is Hogwarts. This is basically our home."

"Talk about your fixer-upper," George muttered, and Ginny elbowed him hard.

"Whatever. It's Hogwarts, Harry is right. We gotta do this," Fred said boldly, looking out at the grounds with a glint in his eye.

The group descended onto the grounds, approaching the castle carefully. Pureblood guards were positioned at every entrance, no doubt instructed to keep intruders out by whatever means possible. Especially if that intruder was Harry Potter.

"Eugh, Slytherins. I hate Slytherins," Fred said, glaring at Crabbe and Goyle, who stood at the main castle entrance, looking (if possible) stupider than when Harry had left. "So what's the plan for getting past them?"

"Live bait," Harry said simply. Fred nodded.

"Great idea, Harry," he said. After a short pause, he turned to him. "Hey, wait, you don't mean us do you?"

"Come _on_, Fred, you've got to distract them or there's no getting in," Ginny said.

"What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?" Fred asked incredulously. Ginny gave him a pointed smile. Fred sighed heavily.

"Fine. Come on George, let's go," he said, grabbing his twin by the arm and hauling him off in the direction of the entrance.

In front of the castle doors, Crabbe and Goyle stood idly, grunting occasionally and staring out into the vastness. Suddenly their silence was interrupted by a red-headed pair of boys, in luau skirts, bikini tops, and leis, who dropped out of a nearby tree into the pathway towards the castle.

"Hey, you can't be here!" Crabbe said thickly, and Fred laughed.

"Ready George?" he said. George nodded.

_Hey!  
__Dark in the city, night is a wire  
__Steam in the subway, earth is afire  
__Do __do__do__do__, do __do__do__, do __do__do__, do __do__do__ doo __dooooo_

Fred sang loudly as George did some sort of wonky interpretive dance at his side, sweeping around with giant arm motions and peculiar faces.

_Woman you want me, give me a sign  
__And catch my breathing even closer behind  
__Do __do__do__do__, do __do__do__, do __do__do__, do __do__do__ doo __doooo_

Fred leaped through the air like a leopard, landing on all fours in front of Crabbe and Goyle, who were too stunned to make any sudden moves. George took up singing.

_In touch with the ground  
__I'm on the hunt, I'm after you  
__Smell like I sound, I'm lost in the crowd  
__And I'm hungry like the woooolf!_

Fred pulled a feather out of thin air and reached up to Crabbe's face, tickling him beneath the chin with it. He backwheeled, falling over on his fat rear end. Goyle laughed uncontrollably, as Fred slunk up next to Crabbe, still on all fours, and set his head on Crabbe's shoulder affectionately, and resumed singing.

_Straddle the line, in discord and rhyme  
__I'm on the hunt, I'm after you  
__Mouth is alive, with juices like wine  
__And I'm hungry like the woooolf!_

"Gerrofme!" Crabbe grunted, rolling away from Fred and jumping to his feet. "Get 'em!" he shouted to Goyle, who had finally stopped laughing.

"Run!" Fred shouted, and he and George took off in the opposite direction of the castle, Crabbe and Goyle hot on their trail. Harry and Ginny took the opportunity laid before them, and entered quickly and quietly through the front entrance.

The inside of the castle was almost worse than the outside. It was dark and gloomy, lit only by wax candles clustered in the corners. The suits of armor were tarnished, and cobwebs littered the corners of paintings. Their feet made loud, echoing scuffs on the marble floors as they crossed the Great Hall, heading towards the Dining Hall, where they heard two voices arguing heatedly.

"MCGONAGALL!" Snape bellowed across the hall, as Harry and Ginny peered in through a gap in the nearly-shut doors. Snape was seated on a throne-like chair at the head of the hall, where the teacher's table was usually present. Professor McGonagall, looking none too pleased with the current set-up, walked slowly from her place standing in the back of the room, up the hall and towards where Snape sat. Students draped in green robes, all with a "P" stitched on the chest, sneered and booed as McGonagall made her way towards the front.

"Yes, Snape?" she asked dryly.

"_Headmaster_," he spat. She visibly rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Headmaster Snape?"

"Where is the food? Why is there no food showing up on these plates?"

"The house elves have run off, Headmaster. They're gone."

"Then you and the other teachers need to get yourselves into the kitchen and prepare our dinner," he said, making a sweeping gesture towards the Pureblood students who graced the hall with their presence. Harry noticed that the rest of the students—still in robes that bore a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw (and a few rogue Slytherin) crests—were lined up against the wall, forced to stand, eyeing Snape warily.

"That is in neither my nor anyone else's job description, Headmaster," McGonagall said tersely, and Snape shrugged.

"Well I guess you'll just have to assume that falls under 'additional services', I suppose, now won't you?" he sneered, receiving laughter and hoots from the Purebloods.

"You can't do that!" McGonagall said, disgusted.

"I am the Headmaster, I can do whatever I want."

"If you were half the Headmaster that Dumbledore was you would—"

"I am _ten times the Headmaster Dumbledore was!_" Snape hissed loudly, raising his hand and unleashing the back of it against McGonagall's face. She fell to the ground at his feet, and at that moment Harry felt anger surge through him like never before; he threw the Dining Hall doors open, sending a ripple through the hall, candles flickering. The doors slammed against the stone walls, echoing through the room, silencing everyone.

"James Potter? No… you're dead…" Snape squeaked, bug-eyed, as Harry ran across the hall to where McGonagall had fallen onto the ground, falling on his knees beside her, feeling her neck for a pulse. McGonagall looks up, squinting at Harry's face, spectacles fallen beside her.

"James Potter?"

"No, it's me, Harry," Harry said, helping her to her feet.

"Harry," she said, smoothing her dress and giving him a closer look. "You're alive? How can that be?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said, shaking his head and handing McGonagall's spectacles back to her. "I'm home."

"Harry?" Snape said, fully realizing the situation. He plastered a sneer across his oily face. "Harry. You're back. I'm surprised to see you… alive." Harry looked up at Snape, and drew his wand, pointing it at Snape as he took several long, fast strides towards him.

"Give me one good reason," he shouted as he walked towards his throne, "why I shouldn't blow you to pieces." Snape jumped up from his seat and drew his wand, but with a flick of his wrist Harry disarmed the professor, pushing him backward into the wall behind him.

"Oh, oh my… well Harry… you see…" Snape said, fumbling his words, attempting to look cool despite the obvious sweat that had formed on his upper lip. "You know, the pressures of being a Headmaster—"

"Are no longer yours. Step down, Snape," Harry said, glaring down at Snape, who he had grown several inches taller than.

"Oh… er… right," Snape said, looking down at the floor, then back up at Harry. "You see, the problem there… all those students…" he gestured out towards the room, "You see… they think that _I'm_ the Headmaster…"

"Well, we don't!" Hermione's voice suddenly rang out clearly in the hall, as she stepped away from the wall, chin high. "Harry is the rightful Headmaster." Several other students stepped away from the wall, and soon they had all stepped forward, wands drawn.

"The choice is yours, Snape. Either step down, or fight," Harry said in a low, steady voice, wand still pointed at Snape's throat.

"Oh, must it all end in violence? I'd hate to see you responsible for the death of _another_ faculty member, Harry. Wouldn't you agree?"

"That's not going to work, Snape. I've put it behind me."

"Harry," Hermione asked, giving him a quizzical look, "what is he talking about?"

"Oh, so you haven't told them yet, Harry?" Snape asked, giving Harry a venomous smirk. "Haven't told them your little secret?" He began to raise his voice, speaking loudly enough for the entire hall to hear. "Well now's your chance to tell them! Tell them who is responsible for Albus Dumbledore's death, Harry!" Harry swallowed loudly, turning to face his classmates. He took a deep breath.

"I am," he said. A loud, collective gasp rose from the crowd, and McGonagall stepped towards Harry.

"It's not true," she said woefully, shaking her head. "Please, tell me it's not true." Harry closed his eyes, scar throbbing, and nodded.

"It's true," he said quietly.

"You see, he admits it," Snape shouted, stepping out from beneath the point of Harry's wand. "Murderer!"

"No, it was an accident," Harry insisted, in an almost pleading tone, eyes widened. Snape stood between Harry and the rest of the students, facing him.

"If it wasn't for you, Dumbledore would still be alive. You are responsible for his death, do you deny it?" he bellowed, and Harry shook his head.

"No, but—"

"Then you're _guilty!_" Snape spat.

"No, I'm not a murderer," Harry said in a panicked voice, shaking his head rapidly.

"Oh Harry," Snape said, summoning his own wand and pushing Harry towards the wall with it, "you're in trouble again, only this time Dumbledore isn't here to save you. And now everybody knows _why_!" Lightning cracked, illuminating the room from the enchanted ceiling overhead. Rain was falling, outside and in the ceiling, but none of it touched the scene below. The room was hot, and crackled with electricity.

"And now," Snape said, breathing his hot, rank breath into Harry's ear as he leaned in to whisper, wand tip pressed against Harry's chest, "here's my little secret. _I killed Dumbledore._"

Suddenly, Harry saw the scenes of his past play out before his eyes; a flash of green and a woman's shriek, Dumbledore's limp body falling from the treetop into the centaur stampede below, his dead, blank stare…

"NO!" Harry shouted, shoving Snape's body backwards, knocking him to the floor. He kicked the wand out of his hand and pressed his foot against Snape's jugular. "_Murderer!_"

"No, Harry, wait, please…"

"Tell them the truth," Harry demanded, and Snape's eyes grew wide.

"The truth? But Harry, truth is all in the eye of the behold—" Harry pushed harder on his throat, cutting short his supply of oxygen. Snape's face began to turn odd colors. "Alright, alright…" he choked out. Harry lifted his foot slightly. "I did it," Snape hissed.

"So they can hear you," Harry growled.

"I KILLED DUMBLEDORE!" Snape shouted. The Dining Hall erupted with commotion; the students against the wall sprang into action, but the Purebloods were just as fast, firing hexes in every direction. Wand battle as well as one-on-one combat ensued, and spells fired haphazardly, bouncing off the walls until they found a target, any target. Snape wiggled out from beneath Harry's foot and took off towards a spiral staircase in the corner of the room. Harry started to follow him, until Malfoy cut him off.

"Say goodbye, Potter," he said gleefully, wand raised, but before his lips could form the final words, a large hand came out of nowhere, knocking him clean into the adjacent wall. Harry looked up and saw Hagrid smiling down at him, eyebrows raised. He grinned and nodded shortly, chasing Snape up the spiral staircase.

He was hot on Snape's tail when they emerged at the top of the tower, one of the tallest in Hogwarts. Water surged over Harry's shoes as rain poured down, dark sky punctuated by cracks of brilliant lightning in the near distance. Snape ran to the edge of the tower, until he could run no farther, then turned to face Harry, grinning sheepishly.

"Murderer," Harry whispered, walking towards Snape.

"Please Harry, please. Have mercy. I beg you."

"You don't deserve to live," Harry hissed, and Snape gulped.

"But Harry, I am… uh… I knew your father for a very long time," he finally said, coming short of a bargain but close enough to make Harry pause. "It's the Death Eaters, they made me do it," Snape reasoned, looking around as if trying to spot one of them. "They are the real enemy, they are the one to blame."

"Why should I believe you?" Harry asked. "Everything you ever told me was a lie."

"What are you going to do? You wouldn't kill a professor, would you?" Snape asked, in a pleading tone.

"No, Snape, I wouldn't. I'm not like you."

"Oh Harry, thank you so much," Snape said, sounding relieved. "I promise, I will make this up to you. Tell me, what can I do for you? Anything."

"Run. Run away, Snape," Harry said softly, beginning to smile, though the smile did not touch his eyes. "And never return."

"Ah… yes," Snape said, looking around for a last-ditch out. "As you wish… _your majesty!"_ he shouted, suddenly reaching out and grabbing Harry by the throat, pushing him towards the edge of the tower. Harry slipped on the wet stone, falling on his back, and in a sudden reflex of instinct, brought his foot up into Snape's stomach and flipped him over. Snape went soaring; up… up… and over the edge of the tower, sailing towards the ground below. Harry did not look over the edge; the heavy thud seconds later told him that Snape had made heavy, probably mortal, contact with the sodden ground below.

Harry finally rose from the ground where he lay, soaked to the bone, and looked up into the sky. He reached into his pocket and found the wooden statuette, and held it tightly. After a few silent moments, he wiped his face and turned, making his way down the spiral steps slowly.

He entered the Dining Hall, which was considerably quieter than when he left it. The Pureblood army was bound together by what seemed like an invisible rope, all in the center of the room, struggling to escape. Various students nursed wounds, but most stood around, looking anxious. Hermione let out a shriek when she saw Harry enter the room, bolting down the hall and throwing herself at him.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodyou'reokayohmygod…" she said in one quick breath, before beginning to sob. Harry patted her back until she calmed down shortly thereafter, pulling back and looking at him through wet eyes, smiling.

"You're the new Headmaster, Harry," she said breathlessly, stepping back and looking at him in awe. Ron, who had been grinning like a schoolboy since he saw Harry enter the room, began to clap slowly. Neville did too, and Luna, and Hermione, and Ginny and Fred and George who were no longer in hula attire. Soon the entire room was clapping, and Harry felt a fire within him, burning down to the core. Hermione walked back down to where Ron was standing and he put an arm around her, the pair of them looking up at Harry with reverence.

Ginny, on the other hand, walked slowly towards the front of the room, beaming at Harry. She approached him slowly, grabbing his hands in hers, and looked up at him.

"Good job," she said thickly, sounding as if she were holding back her tears. Harry rubbed the top of her hand with one of his thumbs, and she let one tear slide down her face.

"Thanks," he replied, laughing as he leaned in to kiss her.

"Oi!" Ron shouted, "Stop mackin' on my baby sister!"

Several years down the road, Harry stood at the top of the astronomy tower with a small, skinny boy, with unruly red hair and vivid green eyes.

"One day, all of this is going to be yours," he said, gesturing out to the castle grounds.

"Seriously?" the boy asked, peering up at his father through wire-rimmed glasses.

"Seriously."

-Fin-

-------------------------

**A/N:** I can't believe it's taken me this long -- two years -- to finish this fanfic. It's not as if this is a particularly long piece of fanfiction, I just did some, then put it off, then had too much school to do something like this, then did some more, etc. etc. over the past three summers. But now it's done. Big thanks to the people (they know who they are) who inspired this, fueled the fire to continue/finish it, and basically made all of this insanity possible. Y'all rock. :) And thank you to everyone who has read this fanfic, and patiently waited (or not so patiently, depending) for me to finish it. I finally did it, guys!

Oh and just an FYI, you really don't know how tempted I was to turn it all into an H/Hr fic in the end... you just don't know... but I didn't. Because a certain someone out there would probably keel over and DIE if I did. :)

Cast:

Simba - Harry  
Nala - Ginny/Hermione (in some places Hermione steps in as Nala when Ginny just didn't fit)  
Zazu - McGonagall  
Sarabi - McGonagall (she's multitalented, what can I say)  
Rafiki - Hagrid  
Mufasa - Dumbledore  
Scar - Snape  
Shenzi - Malfoy  
Bonzai - Crabbe  
Ed - Goyle  
Timone - Fred  
Pumbaa - George  
Somebody random - Ron (he didn't have any particular part... poor guy xD)

All Rights Reserved To:

Walt Disney's _The Lion King_  
Duran Duran's "Hungry Like the Wolf"  
J.K. Rowling's _Harry Potter_


End file.
